Fragile Emptiness
by Shurikenx
Summary: ‘Say it, Sasuke.’ He spoke suddenly, breaking my trance of panicked thoughts as the icy voice rang through my ears. I swallowed. ‘Say what?’ I replied, cautious of what his answer could be. ‘That you love me.’   Uchihacest, Yaoi, lemons. EDITED.


Fragile Emptiness

One-shot

Rating: M

Warnings: Suspense, Angst, Yaoi, Incest.

A/N:: First off, this is a LONG one-shot. And when I say long, I mean long. (About 13 pages…?) So for some of you it may be quite lengthy to read in one go. I apologize for not splitting it up into smaller chapters – but I wanted this to specifically be a one-shot. I have a sequel planned, but that will be posted separately to this one. Please enjoy, and reviews are loved and greatly appreciated. :D

**9th June ::****I have just edited this fic - not realising that I had left a HUGE chunk out of it the first time I submitted it to the site! It is nothing warranting a re-read, but it may make more sense.**

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I was standing before the tall mirror, my fingers splayed out – touching my reflection. It was the kind of mirror that showed all of your body, from head to toe. The moonlight flung through the open window as the heavy clouds dispersed outside – bathing the room in pale, silver light. My reflection seemed haunting – ghostly even – white skin radiating in a dark, dark room.

Nobody knew that I was here. Nobody knew the reason why I had walked to my childhood home, only to stand infront of the mirror that aligned the wall in my old bedroom…

They wouldn't have known the reason. They wouldn't have known why.

So, what _was_ the reason? Well, I was searching for differences, between myself, and him. I was searching, scanning my reflection in what many would think to be a desperate act of insanity – but it was necessary. I needed the reassurance that I was nothing like him. Because I wasn't.

I refused to be.

And yet, I could find nothing in the mirror before me to prove my claims. It was the same porcelain skin, the same ebony hair – the same black eyes… I sighed shakily, squeezing my eyes shut tightly before opening them again – this time, with the sharingan activated.

Even the sharingan was the same. Ruby, scarlet, crimson – the colours all manically swirling amidst the three obsidian pupils – seeming to echo my inner turmoil. I let my hand fall from the glass, my fingertips sliding slightly as they left small imprints on its surface.

His looks, his personality – even though those memories were years old, they seemed so fresh in my mind. I couldn't erase them – I couldn't forget them, no matter how much I wanted to.

Why did he have to be my brother? Why did I have to be related to him? It just wasn't fair – but, when has life _ever_ been fair to me?

I glanced back at my reflection. 'I hate you.' I muttered aloud, watching my lips as they moved with my voice. I wasn't quite sure who I was directing my words to. In my mind, I was speaking them to _him_. But, in reality – I was merely speaking them to my reflection, a double of my true self.

I hated him.

But I hated myself a lot more.

I hated the way I had been forced to live a life I never asked for – the life of an avenger. What life is that? Not one to be desired. To live, solely for the reason of killing one person – and not only that, but a person who you used to admire, used to _love_. I could honestly say that had someone offered me the avenger-role on a plate – I would've taken it from them and thrown it in the nearest garbage can. Who could ever want such a life? Not me – but, fate can be a twisted, wretched thing.

My arms lay by my sides as I stood, perfectly still before the mirror. I didn't move – not a muscle – it was as if I was afraid that if I moved, I would see him in my actions. I wanted to be nothing like him. I didn't want to be known for _being_ like him.

My brother.

I watched, scarlet eyes ebbing in the darkness as my right hand curled into a fist – the small, sharp fingernails digging into soft flesh of my palms. Without hesitation, I threw my arm forward, crashing my hand into the glass of the mirror.

It didn't shatter on impact – not like I thought it would. There wasn't enough strength behind the punch – not enough… No. I refused to say it again. He had reminded me enough times of how I lacked it – and I knew, we _both_ knew, that he spoke the harsh truth. I didn't need to be reminded of it again. The crash of glass was loud, and sounded painful…

I calmly surveyed the damage.

My fist remained embedded in the cool glass – although it was quickly warming as slick blood stained its surface. My blood. The same blood that ran through his veins – the same sticky, hot, crimson liquid that kept me alive – as it did him.

No. We were too alike. Too alike – and yet so different. I couldn't bare it. I couldn't face the truth, or reality.

I shut my eyes, seeing too much of my brother in my reflection – now shattered into a mass of numerous fragments and spider-like cracks, protruding from the point of impact.

I had loved him. Once, a long time ago – I had felt more than just admiration for him. I guess the fact that I used to love him only made the harsh reality all the more difficult to bare. How could he say that he never felt the same way? How could he even have the guts, the _strength_ – to tell me, when he was so painfully aware of my love, that he never thought of me as anything more than an object in his life? I was just like everybody else, and we were all destined for the same thing. We were there, not to act as family to Itachi, but to provide means for him to strengthen himself – to raise his potential.

I hated him for it.

Small, hot beads of blood fell to the floor – creating the only sound to be heard. I averted my eyes to the dusty floorboards, now stained with dark spots from my wound. Was this all my life was worth? Was the only reason why I existed – to kill my sibling? No, I wouldn't refer to him that way. There was no way that I was related to such a cold-hearted murderer.

I was so deep in thought, that my mind didn't register how cold the room had suddenly become – as though someone had opened a door, and let the night air in. The unexpected breeze chilled my spine as it swept silently across the room. Somewhere outside, an owl shrieked – a heart wrenching sound that echoed true loneliness. The stillness that followed was quickly broken, as the soft creak of an old door hinge – rusted from years of abandonment – swung shut with a gentle click.

My heart thumped madly in my chest – almost _painful_ as it banged loudly beneath my ribcage. The room was quiet now, and I was beginning to think that the noise was merely a figment of my imagination – my fear getting the better of me… But the icy voice that shattered the silence was more than enough to erase any doubts.

'Breaking mirrors is bad luck, Sasuke.'

My eyes remained transfixed on the floorboards below me, and my fist remained embedded in the glass.

'Sasuke.'

My name was repeated again – with the same tone, the same coldness – the same terrifying intensity that stole the very breath from my lungs.

I could feel cloth brushing against my back – and knew instantly that the person behind me was none other than _him_.

'Itachi.' I whispered, raising my eyes slowly, oh so slowly, to face the cracked mirror once again.

It was surreal, seeing him there behind me – his chest pressing lightly into my back; black hair falling across my shoulder as he leaned forward. A ray of moonlight broke through the cloud outside, and illuminated us both in silver light. I had to blink to reassure myself that he was actually there – But I didn't want him to be.

'You're cold,' he said softly, as he brushed his fingers along my outstretched arm – the one that was embedded in the mirror. The contact, as simple as it were, caused me to pull away with revulsion. I pulled my fist from its resting place – wincing as sharp fragments splintered my skin as it fell to my side with a flash of blood. I staggered slightly, the sudden burst of pain that accumulated from my hand shot up my arm, but I refused to cry out. I wouldn't give him the pleasure of hearing my pain; my weakness.

'Don't touch me.' I hissed through gritted teeth, holding my bleeding fist close to my chest – to try and staunch the blood flow, and to create a barrier between myself and him.

I dared to look in his direction.

He was a few paces away from me, standing next to the tall mirror – his scarlet eyes on me. Always on me. That blood thirsty gaze filling me with terror, which I was horrified all the more to feel.

'W-why are you here?' I asked, my voice faltering in agony. He didn't reply.

'Get out then.' I said, taking a cautious step which I tried to mask with my supposed confidence. Just as I had anticipated, he didn't move or answer me. He could see through my fake calmness – and I wondered briefly if it was possible that with the sharingan he could see my rapidly beating heart.

'Get out!' I shouted, raising my able arm to push at his chest. He didn't block the action – nor did he try to evade it. My fist collided with his ribcage – and although it was nowhere near enough to cause any fatal damage – he staggered backwards.

'I'm not going anywhere Sasuke,' he said gently, as though he were trying to explain something simple to a three year old. I knew that if he didn't want to leave, he couldn't be forced. I didn't try to hit him again – not knowing what the consequences might've been if I had.

'You haven't changed little brother,' he smiled – reaching out his hand to cup my cheek. Angrily I flung it away – stepping out of his reach as I did so.

'Don't call me that.' I snapped back. 'My brother wasn't a murderer – he wasn't the killer of the Uchiha Clan! You killed everyone. Everyone I had loved – you slaughtered mercilessly. My brother? No. You're nothing to me. I have no further ties to you – you're nothing to me!!'

I breathed heavily from my outburst – my fist and arm clouding my mind with white hot pain – searing, _agonising_.

'No further ties to me?' He asked quietly, placing a cold hand on my shoulder and turning me around – such a quick action that I had no time to retaliate. I was facing the broken mirror again, and our images reflected off its surface.

'Sasuke, you will never be able to rid yourself of the ties that bind us together.' He lowered his face to my ear, his eyes meeting mine as he gazed at my reflection.

'Bonds between brothers are strong. Stronger than normal…' He paused, his lips stilling as his warm breath hit the side of my face.

'We were born from the same mother; we both entered this life through her body. The blood that flows in your veins is the same as mine – keeping our bodies, our very _souls_ alive. We're the same little-brother. As much as you try to deny it, and make yourself think otherwise – you can never change the fact that we are related.'

There was silence in the room then. Two figures, so alike, illuminated by moonlight that streamed through the open window – standing before a tall mirror, broken, that aligned a wall. I swallowed a thick lump in my throat, my heartbeat never failing to increase its speed.

'You broke me.' I whispered, watching as his eyes flickered back to lock with my own. 'You took everything away –' A sob escaped my throat, but I was beyond caring.

'But Sasuke,' he leaned in close once again, his lips resting on my cheek.

'You're so beautiful to break.'

I watched the reflection in the mirror as he stood behind me, his lips melting into a smirk as they placed a warm, slow kiss on my temple.

'D-Don't…' I whispered, my voice barely audible as my breath caught in my throat. He didn't hear my quiet plea – or, if he did – he chose to ignore it, placing another kiss – this time, on my cheek. I guess I wasn't worthy enough for him to acknowledge me. Afterall, I wasn't worth _anything_. Not a thing.

My skin burned like the fiercest fire, but with the sheer iciness of snow, and his wet lips on my cheek – for the split second that they rested there – made me feel surreal. But I didn't want him touching me like this – not in this way. This was wrong, so terribly wrong – I _hated_ him…

I _had_ to.

Just when I was about to push him away to break the contact, he pulled back; his cheek touching my own as he knelt slightly to look into the mirror. Strands of his fine black hair brushed against the skin of my neck – black on white.

'We're not that different…' He said softly, a tone which I could have taken to be kindness – and if I hadn't had known any better – I probably would have. But this wasn't spoken in kindness. No, there _was_ no kindness, no sympathy – nothing of the sort in Itachi's heart.

'Don't mess with me.' I replied, my ribs aching as my heart continued to pound behind them – my eyes meeting his in our reflection.

'But,' he continued. '- it would seem that you are determined to _forget_…'

'Shut up…' I pleaded, closing my eyes tightly to avoid his crimson stare – one which could see right into the very recesses of my mind, delving in my deepest secrets and memories.

' – those days…'

'Shut up!!' I screamed again, the softly spoken words being ushered closer, as his lips brushed against the shell of my ear.

' - those _times_…'

I couldn't make him stop. I couldn't do anything to block him out. _Stop_._ Please_. He was right inside me – his words in my head, echoing around and around and around – and his lips never left my ear – the lips that made me _feel_ his voice.

' – those, _emotions_.'

A strangled cry escaped my throat as I sunk to the floor, my knees striking dusty floorboards – impaling themselves on shards of twinkling glass. My hands rose to my head; fingers knotting themselves in my hair and pulling at my scalp. Tears as cold as ice fell from my eyes, burning my skin as they streamed down my face. I couldn't take it. I couldn't do anything to stop it. I couldn't…

'Get out of my head!!' I cried, half begging, half screaming – my mind whirling in a mass of white pain and black anguish. His image seemed engraved into my eyes – for even as I squeezed them tightly shut – I could still see his crimson stare, forever mocking my weakness. I collapsed - my torso and head falling to the floor as I tucked my knees into my chest. I cried, tears of confusion – of such _despair_… I knew how pathetic I must've looked to him – curled up on the ground at his feet - like a child, like an _animal_.

He knelt beside me, a soft hand coming up to rest on my hands, still embedded in my black hair. His touch made me hesitant, though my reaction to pull away was slow, laboured even. I couldn't seem to move – it hurt to do so…

His long slender fingers coiled around my own, withdrawing them from my bleeding scalp – my injured fist sending wave upon wave of pain into my upper arm. I lay there on my side – in the dust and the glass pieces, bleeding. He was silent, not attempting to give me sympathy. All he did was hold my injured fist – the knuckles bleeding profusely in his soft grip.

'When did we become like this?' I asked quietly, opening my sore eyes.

'When… did my future become so set? Why was I given this life – when I never asked for it!?' He remained silent, although I knew that he hadn't chosen to ignore me. I had his full attention. For once.

'Why do I have to hate you? Why can't…' My voice faltered slightly, before continuing; turning slightly on my side to look up at him.

'Why am I denied a happy, _normal_ life?'

My words trailed off, until the lonely silence filled the room once again. Moonlight shone through the clouds and poured into the room, making the glass shards beside me glitter in the rays of silver. I watched as he gripped my hand a little tighter, causing me to wince as his thumb pressed mercilessly against the open-wound on my knuckles. He lowered his head, until his soft wet lips rested on raw skin – kissing the back of my injured hand.

'Who am I to deny you such?' He whispered, lifting his face a little – the scarlet blood staining his lips with a look short of vampirism.

'I could give you one last memory – one memory which you would never try, or even _want_ to forget…'

My heart skipped a beat. Was he really suggesting…? No, he couldn't be. He wouldn't – he _wouldn't_…

My hand was unceremoniously dropped to my side, hitting the floor with a painful thud that ricocheted through my entire arm. I bit my lip, determined to keep the gasps of pain to a minimum. I looked up at him, watching as he crawled over my body – his knees on either side of my hips – trapping me. His scarlet eyes raked over my figure, examining it like a scientist would his latest specimen.

I was scared. I didn't want this – not at all.

'Get off me –' I yelled, although it sounded only more than a whisper. My confidence had left me; my nerves of steel had vanished – leaked away with the very _blood_ that dripped from my veins. He tilted his head to one side, giving me a look of mocking confusion before those lips connected with my own.

I could taste blood. Warm and damp – with the subtle sharpness of something metallic. His eyes never left mine, all the while crimson burning into crimson as I let my own sharingan activate. He chuckled, leaning closer still; deepening the kiss as his tongue prised my lips apart. I didn't like the feeling of his tongue being in my mouth. He was inside my body – as well as my mind.

When he finally pulled away, and resumed his position atop me – I could only gasp for breath. My cheeks burned, and my heart ached.

'Please, don't do this…' I whispered, a hint of desperation lacing through my voice as I watched his long fingers move to the collar of his cloak, pulling it apart with a soft click. He smiled at me, and in reply, removed the heavy garment from his shoulders.

'You want this Sasuke.'

His fingers moved to the hem of my trousers, lingering on the soft fabric before moving to the zipper.

'No, I – I don't…'

The fabric parted as the zipper was pulled down; the trousers being forced with smooth hands to rest at my ankles.

'You do. You _know_ you do.'

Fingers brushed at my legs and thighs, teasingly light – mockingly gentle.

'No…'

'After all, who am I to deny you of what you truly want..?'

I stifled a cry of despair as my boxers were pulled down to join the trousers at my ankles – his eyes plotting and calculating as I was exposed to him. I didn't try to fight, didn't once try to push him away – why was that? I couldn't think, couldn't move –

He kissed me, rewarding my cooperation if nothing else. My skin itched where his fingers trailed, and he shifted above me slightly, forever wearing the crimson eyes as his hands crept under my shirt.

The palms of his hands felt soft on my skin, pushing the flimsy shirt up with ease as it slowly revealed my torso. I tried to focus on something else, tried desperately to turn my attention away from him and his touches. I didn't want him to be gentle – because it was all just a façade…

I didn't want him to break me, again.

Suddenly, my vision went black. I couldn't see – and I panicked. What was happening? What had Itachi done? It was only when I felt the blackness brush against my face, that I realised what was happening.

'Itachi – S-Stop it!' But the shirt being pulled over my head muffled my shouts – until it was removed fully and tossed to one side. I watched him, as he watched me – his hands returning to stroke at my porcelain skin – greying as the moonlight faded behind the blanket of clouds.

I wasn't going to lie there and let it all happen – just like he wanted to. I had to do something – anything.

Our illuminated figures were plunged into darkness as the light vanished – and I chose that moment to act. Quickly, I twisted to the side – kicking at his chest as I pulled my knees up from underneath his body. My foot collided with his rib cage, but there was no sickening crack of bone – no gushing of blood, not even the faintest sound that could signal his pain.

'Not good enough Sasuke.' He murmured, sounding almost disappointed before he grabbed my injured arm and slammed me back into the floor. The wooden boards splintered upon the impact – and I coughed, small flecks of blood hitting my lips as I tried to get some air back into my lungs. I tried to move, but my legs felt numb and heavy…

I looked up at him, and noticed that he was once again atop me – but this time, with his knees pressing into my thighs – splaying them apart. He smiled, his scarlet eyes glinting as he leant slightly on my bare chest, his fingers moving to brush away the strands of hair from my neck. His lips descended on the flesh below my ear – sucking gently at first, before sharp teeth sunk deeply into the skin. I screamed, the pain searing as they were withdrawn, letting the blood flow freely down the skin of my throat. Warm breath cascaded down my skin, making the blood and damp skin chill.

I was losing too much blood. I didn't glance down at my fist, lying by my side – but I knew that the fingers were severely damaged. I couldn't feel anything with them, not the cold floor, or the night air. I was scared –

I didn't want to die.

'Say it, Sasuke.'

He spoke suddenly, breaking my trance of panicked thoughts as the icy voice rang through my ears. I swallowed.

'Say what?' I replied, cautious of what his answer could be.

'That you love me.'

I stared at him as he lifted his face from placing a kiss on the feral wound, a look of sheer horror etched into my features. I couldn't believe what he was asking!

'What?! No – I, I won't - I hate you! '

I cried out as my head was once again slammed into the unforgiving floorboards – my eyes flickering with pain, and thick blood trickling down the back of my neck, warm on my skin. His fist gripped at the black spikes, threatening to repeat the motion.

'Don't lie to me.' He hissed, forcing my head harder onto the floor – and for a moment I wondered if he really wanted me to go down there, in the ground. That's where our parents were, buried in the dirt just outside the room we were in. I felt sick, sick and scared.

'You always were a bad liar,' He muttered, once again that subtleness of disappointment lining his voice.

'So you're saying that I should be _good_ at lying?!' I shouted angrily, trying to move my head away from the vice like grip that remained fisted in my hair – but the fingers only tightened all the more.

'I'm saying that you should tell me the _truth_.' His voice lowered, and his eyes narrowed as I struggled to free myself. I quickly stopped, knowing that _that _look was nothing to mess around with. I didn't want to anger him to the point of him using the Tsukoymi.

The moonlight filtered through the window, brighter now, as it rose higher into the sky. From my position, lying on my back - I could just make out the small speckles of stars – twinkling in the blackness of the cosmos. I almost laughed at how unfair it was. How could the night appear so beautiful, when the world, in reality, was such an ugly thing? A stray breeze flung through the window, rattling the wooden frames as it did so, before blowing over my naked body. I seemed to have forgotten that I was devoid of any clothing, but the coldness that struck my skin made me remember all too well.

'I'm waiting, Sasuke.' He said, his voice barely more than a whisper as he leaned in close to my ear.

I bit my lip – not knowing quite what to say. He wanted me to tell the truth, that's what he had said. But, I didn't quite know what the truth_ was_.

'I…'

He licked at the shell of my ear, his tongue warm and wet – as if trying to coax me to continue.

My voice was so quiet, that it was almost carried away on the wind that swept across the dusty room. It was a strained whisper, one which tore my heart to speak, and brought tears to my eyes:

'I love you.'

He told me to tell him the truth – but had I? I wasn't sure, maybe I never will be. But as I said it, his hand – tightly gripping my hair – pulled me up sharply. I didn't have the time to wince or cry out in pain, for as soon as my face was level with his, I was pulled into a deep kiss.

I gasped, and with that small action – his tongue pushed into my mouth – touching and tasting alongside my own. He held my face gently between his hands, using his thumbs to wipe away the tears which I couldn't hold back. He pulled back, his hot breath coming in small puffs over my lips – making them tingle.

'Good boy.' He smirked, placing a kiss on my forehead before lowering me back down to the ground. He was kneeling between my legs, and I watched as he removed his black shirt and fish-net top – revealing a perfectly toned chest and muscular abs to my eyes. I didn't want to look, and I didn't want to feel the things that I did… But from the moment he looked at me with those scarlet eyes, I was under his spell. I wanted to free myself from it – just say no to him; make him stop – but at the same time, I wanted, _craved_ to feel loved. It was something I had been deprived of for so long – and for this one moment, I was being _offered_ it.

I looked at him – realising that in my midst of thought, he had taken off the remaining items of clothing. He touched my thighs with the tips of his fingers, stroking the skin in an almost loving way – but I refused to be lead astray. We were brothers. Brothers weren't meant to see each other in this way…

'Please,' I muttered, as his fingers continued their journey up my thighs – closer and closer.

'Just do it.'

He blinked, dark eyelashes identical to my own covering his scarlet eyes for a brief moment, before they opened again. He nodded, black hair faming his face as he leaned over me, lifting my right leg to rest on his shoulder. It was uncomfortable, and my heart fluttered with doubt. Would my family be watching from their graves? Would they understand why I was letting this happen?

'Wait –' I said, and he paused above me – looking at me with curiosity.

'Can you… your eyes – please…?' I gestured with my able hand, and he smiled in understanding.

'Feeling nostalgic Otouto?' He whispered against my ear, before he let his crimson sharingan fade to the normal ebony – the eyes that I knew a long time ago. I could forget our past if I couldn't see his eyes. This was the best way.

I wasn't prepared for it, not really. Did I know what I was doing? Did I know what I was letting him _do_ to me? I cried out when he entered, roughly and deeply and with no ounce of gentleness. I wanted him to stop, but I couldn't speak – I could only scream. Shards of broken glass sliced into the flesh of my back, making my nerves fray and my mind whirl. He was voicing himself too, with deep moans and whispers in my ear – of how I made him feel and what he wanted me to do to him – but I could barely hear them over my beating heart.

His sharp purple nails scratched at my chest, raking up and down, up and down – before they gripped at my member, stroking it to full hardness. I wanted him to stop, I really did. The pain and the pleasure intertwined with the maddening sense of guilt. I was committing incest, and to some extent… I was enjoying it. I knew that I shouldn't be, but I was. I didn't like the fact that it was Itachi inside me, but the pleasure that racked my body was truly maddening.

I didn't know what to think anymore. I _couldn't_ think.

I turned my head to the side as he kissed my neck ferally, nipping with his white teeth and licking with his tongue.

It was then, that in the broken mirror beside me, I saw it.

The likeness, the similarity between us both. As he kissed my jaw line, unaware of how I was watching him. His white skin slick with sweat – moving into my own which was almost an exact replica. The way our limbs were entwined, my arms coming up to wrap around his neck – bringing him closer, always closer as his fingers dug into my waist – gripping me. Sex wasn't what I wanted. Itachi wasn't what I wanted… yet he was something I _craved_ for. His hips rolled into mine with such intensity, I couldn't help but try to lift myself off the ground to meet him. The way my name fell in heated gasps from his lips, the lips that constantly latched themselves onto my throat, neck, chest – any possible place they could find, was erotic. The pain was fading, slickened with blood which acted as a lubricant between our bodies – making the motions less vicious, less terrifying.

'Sasuke,' he moaned, causing me to whine in pleasure as he gripped again at my erection, teasing and stroking in a way which drove me insane. It was only when I glanced briefly back at the broken mirror, meeting his obsidian eyes as he stared back directly at me – that something inside me shattered. I screamed, with the little breath I had left, and everything went white. My nerves felt on fire, and my muscles tightened unbearably. My arms shook; falling from his shoulders as my head fell to the floor with a dull thud – and I cautiously looked up at him. His eyes were closed, and he thrust in one last time before he moaned softly, his body going slack atop me as something warm filled me inside.

He fell to my side, a small fragment of glass slicing the skin of his cheek.

I was afraid to look at him directly. Afraid of what would happen now – afraid of him leaving me…

'You did well,' he murmured from beside me, leaning over -panting slightly- to place a kiss on my lips. My head spun, and for a moment I panicked over the loss of blood. My fist burned, as did the wound on my head – blood trickling across my skin and dripping down my thighs – evidence of lust-driven insanity. His tongue licked at the corners of my mouth, and he tilted his head slightly to bite at my lip.

It amazed me how willing he was to hurt me, even now.

I whimpered, feeling his pearly teeth nibble at my lips with a surprising gentleness – one which made me crave for his touches – like he so wanted me to. He pulled back, tearing a little skin before he released my lip. A small rivulet of blood fell from my mouth, and his eyes gleamed with an emotion I couldn't quite place. Desire? Lust? Or, something else?

'Say it again,' he whispered, wrapping an arm around my body as he pressed my head close to his chest. I was silent for a moment, feeling his heartbeat in my ear as I lay beside him in his arms.

'I… love you.'

Tears sprung to my eyes – falling onto his bare chest. I wanted to love him. But I couldn't – could _never_. I didn't want to be the same as him – and I didn't know what to think anymore. His fingers stroked at the small of my back, attempting to sooth my shaking form.

'I love hearing you say that,' he said gently, kissing the top of my head.

I wondered why.

Why did he like hearing me say those three words? Had he… Had he dreamt, wished, even _fantasized_ about it? I wasn't sure – and I wasn't about to ask. Sometimes it's better to not know the truth..

'My Sasuke,' he muttered, his breath stirring my hair gently as he spoke.

_No, I wasn't_ _his_.

'So fragile, so beautiful…'

_No, I wasn't. I was ugly – ugly for lying with him, in his arms_, _naked skin on naked skin._

My chin was tilted up slightly with two slender fingers, my face merely inches away from his own as his hot breath cascaded onto my lips, leaning forward slightly to kiss me.

'– and all mine to break.'

- - - Owari - - -


End file.
